Guide me to my heaven
by tItAnIUm AprIl
Summary: Bonnie McCullough was horrified once her grandmother prophesied her death, leaving her friends and family behind at a young age seemed so difficult to her, until Damon came in to help her. Death from Bonnie and Damon's point of views. Caution: Death of a character.
1. Chapter 1

_**Jinie, dedicating this fiction to you. I never realized what made me write this fiction until it really happened. I believe you are happy in your heaven now.**_

_**Still we miss you.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**_

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"I see you lying very still. I see flowers - white, purple, and red. I see people, a huge crowd of people. I see Florence crying; Robert holding her."

Bonnie was lost in the words, spoken with such care in a whispering undertone. Curious, she straightened in her small seat and looked at the face of the old woman sitting across the table. The soft light of the candles flickered with a small wisp of wind; the wrinkled face of the old woman looked celestial in the golden glow, her white locks adding a divine exquisiteness to her mild expressions. The strong, intoxicating aroma of the incensed substances and flowers placed around the three lit candles produced a sheer, silky cloud of light smoke. She was lightheaded; her breathing halted for a moment from being seated in such a heavenly realm with this ambrosial creature, watching the decision being made for the life path of a certain Bonnie Isobel McCullough.

Although the mention of her mother crying and her father holding her was not quite as pleasant. She frowned as the woman went on whispering.

"I see a girl with golden hair, and one with dark brown, looking at your face. They are crying. I see a young man with soft green light holding your hand."

The lady took a deep breath, her voice moistened as she spoke.

"I see you dead, Bonnie. You are beautiful, so young, and so pure. And you are dead. Your lips are smiling. I see you in peace."

The lady stopped, tears trickling down her wrinkled cheeks. She breathed shallow; her body shook violently as the silent sobs came sought escape from her throat. She broke her trance in an instant and started weeping.

"Gram?"

"Bonnie, my child. I never wished to see this." She quivered in her place. Bonnie jumped and held her firmly, her mind still processing what just happened.

"I did not want to see this. I never…" her voice collapsed.

"It's okay, Gram. It's okay. I'm still here." She wrapped her Gram with her petite body; the warmth seemed to soothe her a little. Gram held her and cried silently.

She was going to die. She closed her eyes, picturing her body lying lifeless between loads of flowers. She failed. Darkness filled her visions. She was feeling cold. Too cold.

How could she die? She was puzzled. She did not remember any such prophesies before. She thought hard while rubbing her hands on Gram's back. She was an able-bodied person, full of life. From her mother, she learned how to take care of herself. She learned basic hygiene rules, health tips, and everything else that was considered important for maintaining an active lifestyle. She thought hard, but came up with nothing; no probable reason for her death.

Several images of accident victims and visions of unsolved, mysterious deaths tortured her mind - she convulsed from her core, envisioning all the blood and gore. Or could something supernatural happen to her? She felt streams of moisture on her own face, and with a sharp sniffle, she realized she was crying along with Grams.

After sometime, both of them sobbing soundlessly, Bonnie asked the one question haunting her from the moment Grams spoke of her death, "What happens if I die?"

Grams' heart broke with sadness, "I felt special..._gifted_, the day I discovered my psychic abilities. But today I am feeling cursed," she said, wiping the wetness off her skin.

"You always believed in an afterlife Gram, and you taught us that death is not the end. Why are you so upset?" asked Bonnie as she helped the old woman to stand, cautiously avoiding her gaze.

"Because, my child, I dreamt a lot of things for you when you were born. And your mother, she was so happy that she forgot everything else in her life...how would she accept it?" Gram said in her broken voice. She slowly walked to her armchair and dropped herself into it lifelessly.

Hesitantly, Bonnie stood before her, "Gram? Can I ask you something?"

Gram did not reply, except to lift her face and wait for Bonnie's question.

"Was it ugly?" she asked, with a tremor in her voice.

"No my child. It was beautiful. And peaceful. You looked like a cherub lying there," Grams responded, as torrents of silent tears began to stream down her wizened cheeks again. "There was one other thing…"

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_**A/N: We all know Bonnie's grand mother prophesied her early death, but we never read her dying. Though I am extremely thankful for that to L. but still I thought to try something different on this theme. So here is it, my first posted fiction of the 2013. I hope you will love it.**_

_**A very special thanks to AprilLittle, my beta for fixing the grammar:)**_

_**Please don't forget to leave your reviews.**_

_**Thank you.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the plot._**

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_A year later.._.

Bonnie touches the photograph with her trembling hands. Elena smiles at her, her face glows like molten gold. Just to her left, Meredith looks matured and as attractive as ever. Stefan stands behind her, a grin spreading on his face, a rare occurrence. She does not remember Stefan grinning in such childish joy.

She looks at the far left of the frame and finds Matt looking at Elena from his periphery. She wonders if Matt is ever going to get over his crush on Elena. Shaking her head weakly, she trails her finger to the far right. A tall, dark young man is standing with an arrogant demeanor, clutching the wrist of a young red headed girl.

Bonnie heaves a deep sigh. Her sister and mother suggest to her constantly not to be gloomy or disheartened, clueless that she is aware of their perfect acting skills. She hopes she'll be able to obey their instructions someday, and not look into the old albums and videos secretly.

This photograph was taken two years ago. Two years. It was a happy Sunday evening. A faint smile creeps across her face.

Calling the period of time "just two years" is oversimplifying. It was not just another average interval of time passing. Two years means one hundred and four weeks - seven hundred and thirty days. A lot of things can change in _one_ day, let alone the seven hundred days of the past. People can change, their mentality can change, the climate of a particular small town can change. The governing body of a state can even change.

Bonnie has changed a lot, too.

She hears some faint footsteps and turns her head slowly towards the doorway. A handsome figure catches her gaze. She looks away at once. She did not want to face him at that particular moment, awkwardly sprawled on her bed, photo albums strewn about.

"Damon, what are you doing here?" she asks, lowering her head to her lap where she holds the album.

"Came to see my favorite girl. May I come in?" he asks formally, though the warmth in his voice could not be mistaken. She trembles inside, aggravating her attempts to keep herself poised and composed. Her palms are sweating.

"Would you leave if I say 'no'?"

"Certainly not." He chuckles and steps in, "You know me."

Instead of replying, Bonnie turns the page in her album. Two pictures bring on a rush of memories suddenly. In one she finds herself cuddling with Mary. The other was taken by Stefan on her birthday, seated in between Elena and Meredith.

"Your sister looks nothing like you," he says, watching Mary. She nods weakly.

"She looks a lot like my dad, without the mustache. I inherited mom's features."

"Why does your room lack a proper sitting arrangement, Bonnie?" Damon asks suddenly, in a high pitch. She frowns at first, then her frown turns into a scowl.

"What do you think those are?" She points her finger to the wooden chairs in the corner of her room.

"Well, they are not 'appropriate,' and I don't like them," he announces stubbornly. Bonnie ignores him and turns the next page.

"Is this how you treat your visitors, Birdie?" he drops his body right next to hers and the bed jerks a little.

"What the hell are you doing, Damon? Why are you even here? Who called you?" she says, her tone appearing harsh and rude to her own ears - tired as well.

"I just wanted to see you," he states, staring at her face.

"What? To see if I still have some life left in my body? Damn it, Damon." She covers her face with her shaking hands. This short conversation has exhausted her already weak nerves. "Don't, Damon. Just don't."

"Bonnie…" he touches her hands softly, applying a gentle force to uncover her face. She shakes her head furiously.

"Don't..." She cannot let him see her face.

"Don't do what, Bonnie?" he sounds genuinely astonished.

"Don't look at my face. Don't look at me." She feels her cheeks moistening with warm strings of tears.

"Why not?"

"Because I look…" Hideous. She could not finish her sentence, could not tell him that she looks hideous. The powerful chemicals and drugs she's been taking for almost eight months now have blanched her skin; her face has no color anymore. She does not blush profusely now, the scarlet-pink hues do not paint her cheeks anymore. Her eyes are lifeless, dark. Her lips look ashen all the time, and they're always dry.

She is not the same cute, jovial girl Damon once nicknamed "Red Bird." Her signature red hair has straightened awfully, losing all its bounce and shine. She is just a sick, bony framework who needs someone to escort her everywhere - even into the bathroom.

He removes her hands from her face, and to her annoyance, leans further in to look her in the eye, "You look sick, yes you do. But trust me, Birdie, it's not that bad. I have seen worse." He gives her a small smile as she tilts her head slightly to face him.

"You have? Really?" she asks, her eyes wet. She sniffles sharply, looking at Damon's optimistic face, and all of a sudden her hesitation goes away - she feels the need to open up.

"I feel cold every time I breathe, Damon. I feel so cold that my eyes can barely remain open. I cannot look at the mirror - whenever I do, I see a ghost. And I see darkness everywhere. I feel like I am falling into a dark bottomless pit and there is nothing to hold me back. Sometimes it feels like a giant black hole is rapidly approaching, ready to swallow me and absorb all my powers and life."

She closes her eyes and slowly rests her head on Damon's strong shoulder. "_Death lies in our beds; in the lazy mattresses, in the black blankets…"_ She breathes in and out in a low unsteady pace. Her eyes shoot open abruptly. "Am I going mad, Damon? Or is this how every dying person feels?"

Damon looks at her face intently and runs his hand through her hair. He has seen Bonnie in various moods, different situations. They were together in grave dangers, in dark times, in happy moments. Today he felt something else while staring at her pale face. An alien emotion, an obscure mix of somberness, pity, and an ample amount of something that feels like love. Compassion paints his expressions as he suppresses a sigh and speaks. "You are not going mad, Bonnie. You're just afraid."

"I wasn't afraid, you know. I mean, I was when Gram first told me...but then I told myself that it's a beautiful and romantic way to die - probably the best way to leave the world. I will die young, and every one will remember me as the beautiful little Bonnie. Not as a dying, ugly sick girl. But then something happened, and my fears came back."

She stops speaking as visions and disturbing images cloud her mind. She clutches a pillow tightly against her chest, trying hard to breathe.

The white walls were almost choking her. She took small steps out of her private room and entered the small corridor that led to another private room. The hospital was like a milky-white maze - she felt lost until she heard a noise. Holding the walls, she advanced in the direction the sound was coming from. Someone was weeping...sobbing, actually.

The girl, Vicky Bennett, was delicately laid out on the stark white bed linens, her small body resembling a skeleton, her once lustrous golden hair framing her face, now more like dull hay. Bonnie wanted to see her face, but the middle-aged version of Vicky seated at the bedside caught her attention. It was she who was weeping. Bonnie had known Vicky's dad for some time now. She had also met her brothers a couple of times - they used to bring fresh roses for her. Vicky loved red roses, just like Bonnie herself.

"I wanted to say goodbye for the last time, but it was too late. I realized I was going to have same ending. I remembered what Gram said, Mom will be crying - Dad will hold her, of course - but he will be broken inside. Elena will cry...so will Meredith. Stefan will be hurt. I will lie in my bed just like Vicky - a lifeless frame of what you all used to call Bonnie. I saw Vicky's death...and I envisioned my own grave in a cold, deserted cemetery. It was so real - I felt like I was actually there, watching a bouquet of red roses dry up and turn gray."

Bonnie sobs while speaking, "Can you imagine, Damon? Everyone will still be here. Everything will remain the same; the whole world will remain unchanged, except that I will no longer be in it. No one will miss me."

Damon remains silent, holding her firmly in his strong hands.

"Why did this happen to me, Damon?"  
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_**A/N: Thank you all for your amazing reviews. I didn't expect this, seriously I am feeling great.**_

_**Next chapter is the last one I guess. So be with me people:)**_

_**Once again a very special thanks to my beta AprilLittle for fixing the grammars.**_

_**And thank you all for reading.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer : The characters are creative property of the original author (I don't know why I can't type and save her name here). , Only the story line is what I own. **_

_**The beautiful line at the end is by William Blake.**_

_**Thank You AprilLittle, my beta...**_

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Time passes by without them noticing. They sit quietly until Bonnie shifts her body slightly to pull away from Damon's comfortable embrace. After crying for nearly half an hour, Bonnie feels better - the weight upon her chest is gone. She finds herself able to breathe in and out in the proper rhythm; the disturbing images in her mind are gone, too. She looks at Damon's face and makes a feeble attempt to smile.

"I am looking terrible aren't I?" she asks, wiping her face with the back of her palm.

"You are looking alive, and beautiful," Damon says while looking back at her affectionately. "You don't believe me? See for yourself," he climbs down from the bed and looks around the room awkwardly, "Where might I find a mirror, Bonnie?"

Bonnie breaks into a laugh, weak yet bright, so much like her old self, "Look on my dressing table . . . there should be a hand mirror."

The natural color of her skin is back, she notices with great amazement. Although her eyes are swelled, her face once again looks reddish and full of life. Once again. A genuinely happy smile appears on her face as she lifts her gaze to him.

"You are not dead, Bonnie, the life was inside you all the time. It was your fear and depression strangling you."

She stares at him, trying to comprehend his words.

"It might be your destiny. But the things you have been envisioning are not true, this I can say positively," Damon walks slowly to the window and stands against the window pain. "You know, Bonnie, I was not fortunate enough to have such caring parents as yours. My mother died when I was quite young. Stefan's birth pushed her to an unfortunate and untimely death. Those days, I was just as downhearted as you are right now. I was upset and angry because the best woman, the best person I had in my life, was dying. It was too painful to watch her dying every day - every moment the life within her effervesced like soap bubbles. I was sinking into darkness. I had stopped visiting her.

Then one morning she sent her maid for me. I went to her room, terrified of what awful experience might be waiting for me there. I was fearful to face my own dying mother, until she spoke to me. After speaking with her, I realized what I was doing wrong. Do you know what she said that morning?"

He stops for a brief moment to lower his head. He musters up some courage and willpower to recall the morning he made his best efforts to forget every moment of his life. It is the one chapter of his life he never shared with anyone else until today.

"She clutched my tiny hands to her chest and smiled. I don't know how much pain she endured to speak with me, for her face was as pale as a corpses'. She had lost a huge amount of blood, and she was infected so badly that it made her breathing difficult, but she spoke that morning anyway.

"Death is not dark or cold, sweetheart," she said to me, "Death is light. It's the same light you were born from; it's the same light that we believe life is. It is not like the bottomless pit you imagine. After living your life fully, a pre-destined day comes when you have to leave this world and depart to the afterlife. We do not know what awaits us there, but I can tell it is not as horrifying as you imagine it is. He sighs heavily, "That was her last morning, Red. She died that very night."

"My mother was a pious woman. She lived her life fully. It was short, but it was a beautiful life. She was born to a noble family, and was married to a noble man. She was a noble lady by all means, no matter what a monster I have become now, she is still that beautiful noble lady in my mind; that is how I like to remember her. When her time came, she left this mortal world peacefully surrounded by her family, and her extraordinary journey began towards a realm of eternal bliss and happiness. She did not feel the pain in her body, the hurt or heartbreaks. I suppose she didn't even remember us. She was content, happy. That night I lost a parent, and somehow I gained a power. It was the power to face death. That night, all the questions in my mind were answered with a belief."

Bonnie's eyes widen her heart melting as she listens to Damon. She had heard the same things a lot of times, from a lot of annoying old people. They had a lot of life experience, but she never wanted to believe them. Damon must have cast some spell in the air around her, because she finds herself believing each and every word he says. She becomes calm and serene, and the warm tears trickling down her cheeks suddenly feel like a magical potion to soothe a troubled soul.

"You might wonder what I know about death and the afterlife, and how I could be lecturing you on this matter. I do believe in some things. I do believe that nothing bad could happen to a girl who has been innocent and honest all her life. Since my mother passed away, I don't remember seeing anyone else as kindhearted as you, my dear little red bird. You are one of a kind, and if you could see through my eyes, you would see a beautiful destination is waiting for you."

She feels her heart beating fast, the same way it used to when she was the healthy Bonnie, and she used to face Damon. Earlier this morning, she loathed the idea of facing him in such broken down and bedridden condition. She felt that his fondness and concern were mocking her. But right at this moment, she thanks God for sending him to her, for he was the best person to soothe her. Without hesitation, she asks something she always wanted to ask him.

"Damon, do you believe in heaven?" His tough exterior looks otherwise, but inside Bonnie is convinced there is still a Damon, soft and believing inside this dark exterior. She just wants to confirm if she was right.

"I am not aware of that person or power that people believe in, the one residing somewhere up in the sky, but one thing I can assure you, Bonnie, is that, if the person is really up there watching us, then he will send his most superior angel to escort you to his kingdom. He will be amiable and courteous, and he will guide you to his own land."

Bonnie stares into his eyes; the dark blue eyes that remind her of a clear moonless night with the twinkling brilliance of gazillions of tiny little stars, "He will?"

"He will," Damon emphasizes, "and when his angel arrives, you will realize how pleasant it is, to leave the mortal world behind you with all its impurities - all the sorrows and pains, all the bad things that make this world ugly. You will embark on a new journey."

"To the 'realm of eternal bliss and happiness'?" Bonnie chirps, and she notices, surprisingly, that she is chirping after ten long months. She is chirping like she used to.

"That sounded funny, didn't it?" Damon chuckles. Bonnie nods and remembers something.

_"Once a dream did weave a shade, O'er my angel-guarded bed..."_

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**A/N: This chapter took me sometime to write. But hope it is readable:)**

_**Review responses: **_

_**Evamedina - Damon won't give her blood, cause the whole point is how he helps Bonnie facing her death. But I wish to write a sequel where he will explain why he didn't save he. That may take some time but I will write that cause I want to write a nice Damon:)**_

_**Guest : Thank you:)**_

_**Elena Gifred : Glad you loved it:)**_

_**Thank you all for reading, and also your reviews. **_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer: The characters are creative property of the original author, only the story idea is mine.**_

_**The lines are by Khalil Gibran (The Beauty of Death). **_

_**Big thanks to my beta AprilLittle.**_

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"_Let me sleep, for my soul is intoxicated with love and__  
__Let me rest, for my spirit has had its bounty of days and nights;__  
__Light the candles and burn the incense around my bed, and__  
__Scatter leaves of jasmine and roses over my body;__  
__Embalm my hair with frankincense and sprinkle my feet with perfume,__  
__And read what the hand of Death has written on my forehead."_

I am Bonnie McCullough. Some of you who are reading this right now may have heard of me. I am the childish, immature friend of the famous Elena Gilbert. I am the one who fell for a dark and dangerous vampire prince, even though I was aware of my best friend's feelings towards him. I am the one who burned herself in the fire of a one-sided and very much ineffectual attraction, and stupid sense fidelity.

I am the stupid, immature little girl who'll never know what it feels like to grow up. What does it feel like to become a mature lady, and to be treated like a lady? I never got to know that, and I will never know.

My doctor says I am dying today. The lady looks compassionately; I see sympathy and pity in her eyes. She is a large lady in her late thirties. She told my father this morning, near dawn, that I am not going to last much longer. My mother has been crying bitterly for three hours now, and I am worried she might get sick. She has a terrible time with migraines.

Relaxing my mother, my grandmother tells her it was written in the stars that my life would end before escaping its youth. Being the gifted psychic that she is, I find nothing dubious in that. Maybe this was really my destiny - to die young and remain the same in the loving memories of so many people. I do not question it anymore. If you are now thinking that I have surrendered to my destiny, that would not be entirely wrong.

The truth is, my body gave in long before my soul. I was still fighting, but involving oneself in a combat with Death itself is not so easy with a weakened, exhausted body. It started with my skin and hair, my eyesight. Then it spread furiously before my doctors could diagnose and start proper treatment.

I do not blame them. They are just doctors. They are not God.

"_Let me rest in the arms of Slumber, for my open eyes are tired;__  
__Let the silver-stringed lyre quiver and soothe my spirit;__  
__Weave from the harp and lute a veil around my withering heart."_

Waiting for death is good, calming even. I sleep peacefully nowadays, without the fear of crazy supernatural creatures attacking the town. Or Elena getting stuck between the brothers again. Or Meredith being haunted by her long lost brother. I sleep and I dream; beautiful things happen in my dreams. I see things that would have never happened in my real and healthy life.

One morning I saw Damon with me, strolling through the woods. I never knew the woods could look so quiet and heavenly in the first rays of the sun. We walked and talked, sharing a lot of things, and laughing together.

Another time, we went for an evening picnic with the whole gang in the old cemetery. Meredith invited Alaric, and we had some really good times. Elena laughed out loudly, her voice broke in the cemetery like a piece of glass shattered in the hard floor, and I was surprised to hear how shockingly pleasant that sounded.

Last night I was back in Disneyland with my family. I was ten years old, and my sister Mary was the nerdy, book-loving teenager. I was pestering her about something, and then we went to get ice-creams. I loved strawberry, and her favorite was chocolate. It was so much fun.

Sometimes, I feel it would be nice if my eyes were not burdened with such tiredness. Sometimes, I would really like to wake up and walk; leave the room for once and sit alone in the garden. It's been a long time since I've felt the soft grass under my feet, and the greenery sooth my tired eyes.

Tired; I'm always tired. I try to listen to the movements in my room. Smell the medicines.

The next instant I feel groggy again. I welcome the dark curtains drawn across my eyes and I fall asleep.

"_Dry your tears, my friends, and raise your heads as the flowers__  
__Raise their crowns to greet the dawn.__  
__Look at the bride of Death standing like a column of light__  
__Between my bed and the infinite;__  
__Hold your breath and listen with me to the beckoning rustle of__  
__Her white wings."_

"I am sorry, Sweetheart. I can do nothing for you. I'm a bad mother...I failed you," says my mother as she holds my hand and lowers her head. I feel her tears fill my palm


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer: The characters are creative property of the original author, only the story idea is mine.**_

_**The lines are by Khalil Gibran (The Beauty of Death). **_

_**Big thanks to my beta AprilLittle.**_

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Are you feeling sad for me? If you are, then please stop. I am not sad anymore. I am not scared anymore. Please don't feel sad for me. Don't pity me, because I am happy. I just wish I could tell that to my mother.

Do you remember the morning when Damon came into my room unannounced? He arrived when I was about to lose my faith in him. He did not sneak into my room as he usually does with Elena. He met my parents, asked for their permission, and then he came to see me with their consent. It may sound silly to you, but I found that very chivalrous. I always found him to be chivalrous; he was my dark vampire prince.

Things my grandmother told me again and again after the prophesy, I was unable to believe in, due to the despair and anguish perceptible in her intonation. I would not say she was entirely unhelpful, but the bad news had broke her and there was no cure for the ailment. The things she told me were not as effective as she hoped.

Damon, on the other hand - when he first told me about the beauty of death, I knew he didn't believe in the theory himself. I was looking for a hint that he really believed what he was saying, but it is very difficult to read his mind.

Then he told me how he believed that I deserved good things. He believed. That was the key word: Belief. A strong belief could change a lot of things. Somehow it changed my ideas, too.

In Damon's words, I found what was missing in my grandmother's consolations. She lost her belief when she foresaw my death. It made her entire life, her skills, her gift, and everything else . . . meaningless. That was the reason I could not see my angel when she spoke to me.

But I saw him finally. As Damon said, he was the most superior angel sent by God to escort me to his kingdom. He, the angel, was amiable and courteous, just like Damon told me. His beauty was breathtaking, and his eyes made me forget my pain. His smile was the most soothing smile I had ever seen in my entire life. He was my own personal angel, who came to guide me to my own heaven.

I realized how speaking with friends makes things easier.

"_Sing of the past as you behold the dawn of hope in my eyes, for__  
__It's magic meaning is a soft bed upon which my heart rests."_

When my grandmother prophesied my death, she told me something else. "There was one other thing I saw, something extraordinary. There was a strange light around you. A dark bluish cloud, but it was a pleasant one that filled me with a strange sort of calmness. The whole period I was in my trance, I was feeling those serene waves of calmness around you, and it was undoubtedly the dark blue cloud's deed. I am not certain, but I have a feeling it was an aura, a very powerful one." She left me perplexed at that moment, but now I know who she saw.

It was the magical aura of my angel.

I cough. My throat feels dry. I feel the doctor slowly helping me drink some water. The cool liquid dribbles down my throat. I feel better.

I am still afraid when I think of the moment I will have to leave. I am afraid because I don't know how my parents and friends will cope with the truth. I am afraid my father will break, my mother will go insane, my sister will lose her confidante. But I am not afraid to take the journey anymore, because I know they will remember me until the last day of their lives. Someday, they will join me in my heaven.

Someone kisses me on my forehead. From his cologne, I recognize Stefan. I hear a muffled cry; Elena must be thinking I am already dead. She doesn't know I can still hear her, and feel her, too.

"I will never let the roses on your tomb dry out, Bonnie. They will remain a rich red forever," Stefan promises, and I believe him.

It is painful. I can't breathe. I feel the air around me turn heavy, pressing a weight against my chest. I see Elena, Meredith, and Stefan near my bed. I feel bad for them. I have made them promise me that they will take care of my family after I am gone.

I turn my head and see my mother weeping, her face and eyes are swollen and red. I see my father holding her, his face slowly contorting in a way I've never seen before. I try to give them a reassuring smile, but I fail.

It was easy to think or talk until now, but it all seems impossible suddenly. I cannot move my body; the extensive pain is spreading. My throat is drying out. I need some more water . . .

"_Come close and bid me farewell; touch my eyes with smiling lips.__  
__Let the children grasp my hands with soft and rosy fingers;__  
__Let the ages place their veined hands upon my head and bless me;__  
__Let the virgins come close and see the shadow of God in my eyes,__  
__And hear the echo of His will racing with my breath.__"_

"Bonnie, it's time."

I hear his voice. It's chilling. Fog is everywhere.

"Damon, where are you? I can't see you," I cry. I hear some voices, some weeping . . . I smell tears and grief.

A hand comes out of the fog and holds me, helps me regain my balance.

"I am just here, Red."

His voice guides me. I walk and notice I am in my garden. I feel the soft grass under my feet and I look forward. There is a clearing before me, leading to the woods.

"It's like my dream, Damon," I say.

He chuckles in reply. I cannot hear the cries anymore, nor can I smell the grief anymore. I am far, far away from them now.

Suddenly the clearing and the woods fill with music and butterflies. Countless butterflies dazzle across the scene, beautifying the greenery. Fireflies sparkle in the shadows of the trees. Alleviated by this display, I look around, astonished.

"_The songs of the waves and the hymns of the streams__  
__Are scattered, and the voices of the throngs reduced to silence;__  
__And I can hear naught but the music of Eternity__  
__In exact harmony with the spirit's desires.__  
__I am cloaked in full whiteness;__  
__I am in comfort; I am in peace.__"_

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_**A/N: So, this is the end. I am not sure if you guys are going to like it or not:) but trust me if you are being sad, don't be cause Bonnie is happy in her heaven.**_

_**An image in Deviantart kind of inspired me writing this fiction, I have added it to my cover but the image editor has somehow lessen the effect, so you will have to check on my profile to get the link of the original image.**_

_**Also there was this amazing poem by Khalil Gibran. If you read the original you will see the different stages of the journey is written there so beautifully, its almost overwhelming.**_

_**Please let me know about your thoughts on the story.**_

_**Do you want a sequel? Let me know cause I would love to write one.**_

_**And finally, thanks all of you for reading this story. Love you:):):)**_


	6. Note

_**A/N: Thanks to all of you who added this fiction in your Favorite/Alert lists, and left your reviews. **_

_**I have finally uploaded a sequel to this, it's named "Moonlight Sonata", you can find it in my profile. Its inspired by the classic Sonata no 14 by Beethoven. **_

_**I hope you will enjoy the new fiction too:)**_

_**Once again thanks a lot for your support.**_

_**Love you all:):)**_:)


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